


Aroha Nui

by kyber-erso (aoraki)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Grief/Mourning, M/M, Relationship Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25667806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aoraki/pseuds/kyber-erso
Summary: Obi-Wan’s hands were trembling. He presses palms flat against the cool tiles of shower wall to still them, the reddened skin of his knuckles stretching over bruised bone. This was the first time he was truly alone since it had happened.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31





	Aroha Nui

Obi-Wan’s hands were trembling. He presses palms flat against the cool tiles of shower wall to still them, the reddened skin of his knuckles stretching over bruised bone. A terrible pressure builds in his chest. His head bows to watch as pink tinted water collects at his feet. Anakin rests in his room finally, after his new master had exhausted himself soothing the boy against the chill of the Coruscant night. This was the first time Obi-Wan was truly _alone_ since it had happened.

Had it already been hours? He could hardly remember. The smell of burning tabards and worse lay tacky in the back of his throat. Something within him cracked, legs weakening as he slid gradually to his knees, hands pressed to his face as a silent sob wracked his frame. The sudden sorrow after hours of numbness gutted him. It spilled out in a torrent, pooling in his palms and swirling down the drain. Unfathomable loss seized his lungs, and he dived down into his center in search of reprieve.

The force welcomed him as always, but its current was disturbed, rolling and crashing in turmoil. Buffeted by the turbulence, Obi-Wan landed ungracefully upon a jagged surface, rolling through the wreckage before coming to rest face down. Bare skin met blistering sand as he struggled to push himself up, a solid hold evading him. A cry escaped him as he realized what he had landed on. A thriving garden fallen to ruin, overrun with lifeless dunes which stretched for miles and _miles_ into the shimmering distance.

His eyes followed the shards of his training bond that ascended high above, ending in deadened wisps obscured by blinding twin suns. The precious connection had been stretched to breaking point as he had clung selfishly, desperately as his master slipped away. He hid his face against the sand, wishing, _begging_ to be anywhere else but the evidence of his devastation.

Debris had buried into memory and sense alike. To go elsewhere was agonizing. His vision whitened out and was watching another star - setting in a blaze of orange, a bearded smile that promised _next time_. He felt a solid, calloused hand against his cheek. The touch so _real_ and wanted it wrenched a scream of yearning from within him-

The force fled him at the sound. Real eyes opened to fingers digging grooves into the wet skin of his knees. Control was evading him, and he was terrified, _terrified_ of the onslaught of emotions cresting in a wave too large to survive. His forehead bent forward to press against his hands, water flowing into his mouth as he cried desperately. Each attempt to regain control, to immerse himself in currents of peace resulted in blinding pain to sear behind his eyes. The force wanted him to _feel_.

It was a long time until he had the strength to pull himself up. Weary limbs shook from more than just the water which had long since run cold. He caught sight of himself in the mirror as he climbed from the shower to rest against the bathroom wall, fatigue weighing down his shoulders. It disturbed him that he didn’t look any different. Aside from vivid bruises, there was nothing _permanent_ to represent the destruction scaring his life force. The bruises would heal in time and somehow, he knew he would grieve them. Shields of durasteel were settling around his mind, smoothing out lines of distress, dulling swollen eyes.

To wake in the night reaching for the warmth of a body now gone would destroy him, so he avoids the bed. He curls on the floor with his master’s cloak, imagining an impossible scent lingering in the fabric as he presses it to his face. Despite the numbness he feels silent tears trace down into his hairline as he passes into sleep. When he wakes in the morning the force is calm, but the sand remains. It creeps into memories left abandoned to time and waits until a distant day in an empire where master and padawan can meet again.

**Author's Note:**

> Angst galore. Criticism welcomed as I am still very new to this. Kia kaha whanau. <3


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